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November 8th
Nov. 8th, I'll consider a win.
From the slope of your nose
to the curve of your chin.
I marvel at your tiny fist,
and the scent of your new skin.
I soaked in your perfection,
I drank it all in,
knowing those moments were sacred,
and surely would end.
You stared up at me,
as we lay skin to skin.
Having to let you go,
and not knowing when.
Having our time be over,
before it could begin.
I'm trying to hold it together,
but my strength is wearing thin.
Nov. 8th was a devastating loss,
and a huge win.
~ Rachel G. Ezell
© RachelEzell29
From the slope of your nose
to the curve of your chin.
I marvel at your tiny fist,
and the scent of your new skin.
I soaked in your perfection,
I drank it all in,
knowing those moments were sacred,
and surely would end.
You stared up at me,
as we lay skin to skin.
Having to let you go,
and not knowing when.
Having our time be over,
before it could begin.
I'm trying to hold it together,
but my strength is wearing thin.
Nov. 8th was a devastating loss,
and a huge win.
~ Rachel G. Ezell
© RachelEzell29
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